Moment of Clarity?

So, after reading over my ranting and (admittedly) whiny last post, I couldn't help but wonder why buying this house has become such a sore spot for me.

Well, I've finally figured it out (and realized that I begin lots of sentences with 'well'). This house has become a symbol of compromise.

Moving to Las Vegas was, of course, a compromise (or surrender, depending on your POV). I didn't want to move and leave all of the people who, after nearly 10 years, I had finally found as friends, especially since I was pregnant. But it was a good job for the DH that paid well and would make it easier for me to stay home and maybe it would be fun.

Fast forward a few months. House hunting itself was a compromise. I was perfectly content renting the place we are in now. The DH was angry at the property management company for giving us a hard time about replacing some plants. Admittedly, the property managers aren't the most receptive and the house has some faults, but none of that was a deal breaker in my book. Originally we were going to look for a new place to rent that would help us save some money. Since we no longer had a dog, we didn't really need a yard and figured we could get a smaller place and pay less rent.

Then the DH got the wild hair that we should buy. Prices are coming down, we can afford it now, why rent, blah blah. I didn't really want to buy. After the fiasco that was owning our last home (and now being landlords from a thousand miles away) I was in no hurry to become a homeowner again. I wanted to be able to move easily, as well. The DH said we'll just look; if we can't find anything we like that we can afford, we'll keep renting.

For those of you keeping score at home, that's compromise number 3.

I started getting into the whole house-hunting deal and decided I wanted a pool. I didn't really think we would find anything we could afford with a pool, but then we saw a few here and there. If we couldn't find a house with a pool, I said, at least one in a community with a pool. If we couldn't find either, than at least a house with a big enough lot where we can put a pool. After looking and looking and looking, we finally settled on this house, which has none of the above. Compromise 4.

Of course, ever since we started this mess, there have been many times that I've been ready to walk away, sign a new lease and pretend this whole sorry affair never happened. Yet here we are, compromise number 5.

But, as I've said before, they aren't really compromises, for the most part. I just give in and let the DH have his way. It's what I usually do. I know the DH would beg to differ, but on most things he gets what he wants. I may put up a fight, but he almost always gets his way because I back down and let myself be convinced.

It boils down to the fact that I'm an emotional decision maker, but I don't trust my instincts. Most of the time, deep down, I know what I want to do, I just don't feel comfortable unless I can justify it with "logical" arguments.

For instance, I had this rule in college: if the first class I attend feels off in any way, I drop the class. There were many times I ignored my first feeling and stayed in the class because the subject was interesting or the reading list was good or the time was good or it was supposed to be easy or whatever and I always regretted it.

Most times, though, I try justify my emotional decisions to myself and I usually fail. This means that if someone comes by with some rational, or rational-seeming, explanations for why I should do something else, I usually accept those over my own misgivings.

So what does that mean? Who the heck knows. Your gut isn't always right, of course. And shouldn't there be some rational reasons for doing or not doing a thing, not just because it makes you feel good or bad?

I give up. I suck at life.